On Saturday evening I did something that was a first for me - I attended two birthday parties in one evening. First up, after a mad dash to the bookstore to buy presents, was dinner at Sarastro in Covent Garden.
This place is absolutely manic. A constant influx of people, waiters on speed, loud opera music and an interior by Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen on decor-enhancement drugs ("psst... wanna buy some Rococo?").
Our table was right in the middle of everything, which was a mixed blessing at times. At one point I came close to a full-on "kickmyfuckingchairagainandyoudie" freak-out, but it's hard to remain angry in such a good-natured environment with a crowd of friends.
Around 10pm I reluctantly left the restaurant and headed off to the second party - a fancy dress come-as-a-fictional-character affair in North London.
With the prior dinner engagement it wasn't possible for me to wear the planned Mickey Mouse costume (yeah, right), so I had settled on a black suit with a white shirt. I thought that this would be reasonable for dinner and then if anyone made an issue of it at the party I would say I was James Bond, or a Reservoir Dog, or indeed any one of tens of black and white film stars.
My pretension was utterly deflated by the innocent, guile-less comment of one of the hostess' friends: "So... are you in costume, or do you always dress like that?"
In the taxi on the way home I played around with night-time digital photography. If pictures of delicate little squiggles are your thing, leave a comment and I'll consider putting them in the gallery. This is one of the most robust shots, a petrol station just off the South Circular road.
Posted by Hg on Monday 28 October 2002 at 17:47.
Received 9 comments so far.
Oh come on, they're not really fictional. The man looks suspiciously like a very real troubled-diva, but who are the women fawning over him?
Squiggles? If you must. If you think it's art. But I might start loading up more 'fuzzy taken from a train so no flash so slow exposure' pictures.
Mind you, that's a pretty pathetic threat. You always have the option of the off button.
Doh!
The one on the left is shady-diva and the one on the right is frizzy-diva. Both clearly attempting to preserve their anonymity :-)
Can I just say that you may call me frizzy diva, Stuart, but I'm pretty sure that I'm curly diva. Or ringletty diva. Or I should be, the amount I spend on hair-care products.
Comment by slightly hidden diva on Tuesday 29 October 2002 at 00:38.
Ah. This is one of those female "subtle distinction" things, isn't it? I take it frizzy is bad then?
Having seen my, ahem, "hairstyle", you'll understand why styling detail is lost on me.
Frizzy is bad, you bad, bad boy. Never come onto a curly haired woman with the "I love your frizzy hair" routine; it won't work, children. Just fyi.
And I feel duty bound to finish your post heading for you: I have Scorpio rising.. in the House of Fraser. The old one's are the best ones, eh? (Or maybe I just keep making the one gag over and over again?)
I'm also curlydiva though, so I don't think that distinction works. And no, I'm not employed by sasha to hold her chin up for her when the stresses of another birthday all get too much.
(though maybe I should be)
Oh, and abstract squiggles work for me. I liked that effect on my sunglasses on your other photo -- that was neat.
Comment by shady diva on Tuesday 29 October 2002 at 11:54.
The Nottingham photos are excellent. I've been there loads, but they provide a totally different take on the city.
Squiggly light photos work for me too. I was lucky enough to go to Las Vegas and ended up with lots of pics of this ilk. I call them 'arty'; my friends called them 'blurred'!
Stuart, the Nottingham photos are excellent. Really, really, REALLY good. And I've always had a thing for squiggly late-night no-flash pics. Easy to do, but the results are always surprising.
Thanks guys. I have no critical distance from them, to me they're just... Nottingham. But everyone is being very complimentary, so I guess I must have done something right :-)
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